


no man is an island entire of itself

by sky_of_starflowers



Series: collected lines in a possible future [1]
Category: Justice League - All Media Types, Smallville, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Future, Fortress of Solitude, Gen, Post-Canon, Smallville-verse, but not like romantic feelings, except as a hologram, feelings talk, i made clark sad for no reason, lex isn't in this at all, y'know for this being a piece about clark kent and lex luthor (technically)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:55:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29893884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_of_starflowers/pseuds/sky_of_starflowers
Summary: Bruce Wayne doesn't like talking about feelings. Alfred gives him a disappointed parent look until Bruce caves and goes to see why Clark is Sad today.
Relationships: Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent & Lex Luthor, Clark Kent/Lex Luthor (implied)
Series: collected lines in a possible future [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2203017
Comments: 10
Kudos: 13





	no man is an island entire of itself

**Author's Note:**

> hello! fair warning, most of what i know about anything in the dc-verse is from fanfiction. i've never been much of a comics girl and while this technically takes place in the smallville-verse, i hadn't actually finished the series. so, that having been said, forgive me is anything is ooc or just straight up wrong. 
> 
> i had two images in my head when i started this - alfred's disappointed parent stare and clark quickly turning off hologram-lex when bruce walked in.
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> title from the poem by john donne

Alfred sighed and gave Bruce a disappointed look that Bruce was incredibly familiar with. “They aren’t just your teammates, Bruce,” Alfred said, and Bruce knew he’d done something wrong when Alfred dropped the formalities between them. “They are your friends, no matter how much you claim the contrary. You may not care to discuss your emotions, however that does not necessarily mean the same of them.”

Bruce looked up at Alfred from his chair, studying the lines in his butler’s face, wondering where the years had gone between the two of them. Sometimes, Bruce still felt like that child who watched his parents bleed out in an alleyway in front of him. Other times, Bruce felt every ache and old injury in his body, occasionally giving truth to the old wives’ tale that he could tell when a storm was coming. “You’re right, Alfred. Even if we are a team,” he continued, holding up a hand to stop whatever reply Alfred was already formulating, “we need to be there for each other, emotionally as well as physically. It means nothing if we only have each others’ backs in the field.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Alfred’s mouth. “Very well, sir. Shall I check that the Batplane has enough fuel?”

“May as well,” Bruce said with no small amount of reluctance.

The situation that brought this conversation about was one of an uncommon nature, or as uncommon as life could be when one dressed up as a bat every night to fight supervillains and was part of a team of similarly clad and motivated people. Bruce and the rest of the Justice League had been up in the Watchtower, training on what was a relatively quiet day (there had been some attempted robberies in Gotham, but nothing that Bruce wasn’t used to) when Superman had simply disappeared from the training room.

Diana had gone after him, but Bruce had kept to himself, assuming that whatever was bothering Clark would be resolved by the time they met for their end-of-day meeting. However, when Clark had appeared at that meeting quieter than usual, Bruce had turned to Diana with a curious look. She had all but shrugged at him, and Bruce had gotten the idea that Diana hadn’t been able to get the cause of Clark’s somber mood out of the man.

When he’d returned to the manor, Alfred had asked after Bruce’s day and Bruce had explained, including the part about Clark bringing his problems to everyone else’s attention. This, in turn, had lead to Alfred being disappointed that Bruce wasn’t trying to be more attentive to his friends’ emotional states and Bruce’s apparent upcoming visit to the Fortress of Solitude.

With Alfred’s parental disappointment motivating him, Bruce didn’t think anything of walking into the Fortress without warning, apparently having been accepted into the security system long ago, and interrupting Superman’s private time.

Bruce hadn’t, however, expected to find Clark Kent debating with what looked like Lex Luthor.

From what Bruce could see, Clark wasn’t wearing all of his “Clark Kent” persona. The noticeable loss of his glasses made Bruce curious, and he took another step further into the main room, Clark too wrapped up to notice his entrance.

“I’m just saying, it sounds ridiculous,” Clark said, seated backwards on a chair, leaning onto the chair back.

The thing that looked like Lex Luthor scoffed. “Alright then, Clark. Tell me – what’s a better plan?”

Clark laughed a little, the sound of it floating towards Bruce. “How about you sleep on the idea and come back with a better one in the morning?” He shifted in his seat, turning slightly towards Bruce. “ _Computer, shut down personal interface,_ ” Clark said in Kryptonian.

Lex Luthor’s image flickered and then disappeared, leaving a faint green outline for a moment until Bruce blinked and it was gone. Bruce took another step into the room then, still ceding the space to Clark. “I didn’t mean to intrude,” Bruce said, and he was curious to find that he genuinely meant it.

Clark shook his head, standing up. “Don’t worry about it.”

Bruce nodded his head to where the image of Lex Luthor had been. “An exact replica?”

“More like a memory from simpler times,” Clark said, neatly sidestepping Bruce’s actual question. “To what do I owe this visit? Not a work call, I guess.”

Bruce looked down at himself to find that, no, he wasn’t wearing the suit as Clark must’ve thought he would. Instead, he was warmly dressed in a thick sweater and jeans, his jacket hanging over his arm. “Ah, no. I spoke with Alfred when I went home.”

Clark smiled a little, running his hand back and forth on the chair back. “Sounds like talking with my mother.”

“In some ways,” Bruce conceded. “He mentioned something that made me realize how many things I’ve been ignoring in the League.” Clark hummed, still not looking at Bruce. Bruce huffed out a breath, usually the closest thing he got to a sigh. “Clark, is something bothering you?”

Clark looked up so sharply that Bruce would be worried about some sort of neck injury if it were anyone but Clark. “Are you feeling okay? Should I have the Fortress check you for mysterious substances?”

Bruce gave Clark a look. “Alfred scolded me like a child because he said I wasn’t being attentive enough to the emotional wellbeing of my – friends,” Bruce said, nearly tripping on the last word.

Clark raised his eyebrows. “I’m impressed,” he said, and Bruce just continued to stare him down. After a few moments, Clark sighed, leaning against the chair. “Today is Lex Luthor’s birthday,” Clark said.

“And this has to do what with your mood?” Bruce asked.

The wry look on Clark’s face was not something Bruce was familiar with. “You can’t tell me you don’t know anything about mine and Lex’s history, before the cape,” Clark said, and something about the expression on Clark’s face made Bruce want to be honest.

“Only a little,” Bruce admitted. “The Smallville Ledger files from when Luthor was living there are mysteriously absent, along with any other articles and documents that talk about what happened. I did happen to find a lot of obituaries however.”

Clark nodded, more to himself than to him, Bruce thought. “Lex wasn’t always my arch enemy. Once upon a time, he was actually my best friend. That hologram – ” Clark waved his hand at where the image of Lex Luthor had been, “ – is actually a result of a scan the Fortress took of Lex years ago, before he forgot that I had powers.”

“That you were Superman,” Bruce supplied.

“Before I was Superman,” Clark corrected. “I gave up on Lex too soon, and he decided that if he couldn’t motivate me as a friend, he would motivate me as an enemy.” He shrugged, staring at one of the walls. “I guess sometimes I just miss my friend.”

Bruce crossed the room then, not moving to touch Clark but trying to show solidarity through proximity alone. Clark turned to look at him, and for an instant, there were no capes between them, no public personas. Just two people who understood what life had cost them, trying to keep going.

“Alfred’s cooking,” Bruce said, and Clark nodded. It was as much of an invitation as Bruce was going to give, and he was pleased to note that Clark seemed to understand it for what it was. After a moment, Bruce asked, “What would you do, if Luthor knew it was you behind the cape?”

Clark shrugged again. “He doesn’t remember his time in Smallville, and even if he did, what would stop him from ruining my life?”

Bruce hadn’t been called the Greatest Detective for nothing. “I don’t know what you know, but from my research, the Kents have been untouchable for years under Lex Luthor’s orders.” He’d turned up a couple of unsavory characters from Metropolis who’d apparently had dealings with both Luthor and the Kents in Smallville, Clark included. Fear of losing their lives had kept them quiet and their knowledge out of public hands.

Clark blinked like he was having difficulty processing the concept. “Lex has been protecting us?”

“Even without his knowledge, it seems.” Bruce didn’t mention how thrilled Clark seemed to be by the concept. He did, however, note that Clark was apparently in much better spirits. “Come on, Alfred’ll have my head if we’re late for dinner.”

Clark and Bruce walked out to the Batplane in silence, the Fortress locking itself up behind them. It wasn’t until the two of them were settled that either of them spoke again. “No man is an island entire of itself,” Clark said, sitting next to Bruce in the cockpit.

Bruce glanced at Clark from where he was doing pre-flight checks. “John Donne,” he said. “I admit, I didn’t expect that coming from you, Clark.”

Clark shook his head. “It was something Lex said once, years ago. I didn’t even know I remembered it until now.”

“It’s sound advice,” Bruce said, and he grimaced when Clark turned to him with a bright smile.

“Is that so, Bruce? Do you want to talk about your feelings now?”

“I will eject you out of this plane,” Bruce said, and Clark’s laughter followed them through takeoff and out of Antarctica.


End file.
